


Château de la Mort

by lulalotte



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz (Two River Cast) Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Squips (Be More Chill), Angst, Bisexual Jeremy Heere, Broken Families, Child Neglect, Engagement, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, France (Country), Gay Michael Mell, Ghosts, Hallucinations, Hebrew-Speaking Jeremy Heere, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, No Smut, Past Child Abuse, Poison, Poisoning, Sad Jeremy Heere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25714768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulalotte/pseuds/lulalotte
Summary: Michael never expected this to happen. He had known Jeremy's mom wasn't great, but he never ever thought it would go this far.Rosemeadow had looked like a regular - albeit large - house.But really, it was the Castle of Death that loomed above them.-ON HIATUS-
Relationships: Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Comments: 41
Kudos: 60





	1. Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first lengthy story! Welcome!
> 
> A couple things - 
> 
> 1.) I personally headcanon Jeremy to have blonde hair and complete blue/brown heterochromia. 
> 
> 2.) "Ani ohev otcha" means "I love you" in Hebrew.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Rosemeadow Estate in Marseille was the largest house Michael had ever seen in person. By far. It was also probably the fanciest. And the prettiest. 

It was a light off white, with blue and gold accents. The country road stopped at the end of the large, cobblestone driveway, which was surrounded by miles and miles of rosebushes. 

"You really used to live here?" He breathes to his boyfriend, who is standing at his side and holding his hand. Jeremy shakes his head yes. His expression is unreadable. Something alike apprehension. 

They look at each other. Jeremy smiles nervously at him. Michael pecks his soft lips. 

"Don't worry, love. It's only for a while. A week, probably," Michael soothes. Jeremy nods determinedly. 

"A week," he murmurs, quickly grabbing a badly wrapped package from the side of the road. "Got the mail," he mutters, tucking it under one arm and grabbing Michael's hand again. 

Michael spends the short walk observing. Observing the sounds of the early night, the few stars that are beginning to wake up, Jeremy. Michael hitches his bag up further on his back. Jeremy's mother would be providing clothing and such for them while they were here - so they had only packed a few light things. 

"I used to really like getting the mail," Jeremy tells him, breaking the silence. "I liked coming out here. We used to walk in the gardens a lot when I was little."

Michael squeezes Jeremy's hand as they start up the marble steps to the front door. It's made of shimmering blue stained glass. Jeremy presses the doorbell. The deep sound echoes inside the house. 

The door opens. 

The woman standing there is very beautiful, and the resemblance between her and Jeremy is uncanny. They have the same golden hair, and the same pale skin, and the same high cheekbones. She has two of Jeremy's one blue eye. She smiles prettily at them. They have the same smile, too. 

"Jeremiah," she greets, leaning forwards so they can exchange cheek kisses. Her accent is French and creates this kind of luxe drawl. 

"Hi," is all Jeremy says, intwining their fingers. She presses their foreheads together and smiles, then turns her head so they're side by side, looking at Michael. Her eyes flick down to Michael's hand, which is still holding Jeremy's. "This is Michael, my boyfriend." 

Her smile changes. Michael can suddenly see the angry, strained quality it takes on. He mentally reels back, but then quickly settles for shaking her hand and smiling back at her. 

"It's nice to meet you, Ms...?" He questions, suddenly realizing that Jeremy never told him her new name. 

"Monét," she finishes. "My maiden name." 

Michael settles for nodding. 

She's quick to leave them once they're inside. 

"I have buisness to attend to," she kisses Jeremy's forehead fleetingly. "Don't go in the East wing. You know the rules."

They stand in silence when she's gone.

"Um, okay," Michael answers quietly to nobody. 

"She... values her privacy," Jeremy fills in quickly. "Do you want something to eat?" 

Michael thinks back to the McDonald's he had dragged Jeremy to earlier, as soon as they got off the plane. It was rather different, not something he was used to. But good.

"No. Let's look around," he answers instead. Jeremy nods and watches Michael take in the huge entrance hall. The ceilings are incredibly high, and everything is finished beautifully. A crystal chandelier hangs above them. 

Jeremy's soft hand is suddenly in Michael's larger one. He gently starts to lead him up the huge, marble staircase to the upstairs landing. 

"How many floors does this place have?" Michael laughs. 

"Five. Including the basement." 

"I... how come your dad lives where he does if he could afford a house like this back home?" 

"When we moved into America, we left everything," Jeremy tells him, and Michael sort of regrets asking if he's going to make Jeremy sad. "And part of that was this lifestyle. My father wanted a more normal life, and that ended up being part of why my parents divorced. Because my mom wanted to move up to one of those expensive penthouses in New York and my dad wanted us to stay where we were. And we still live very comfortably. Also, why have a huge house like this if only two people are living there? It gets lonely fast," he rambles.

A moment of quiet.

"I'm sorry." Is all he returns with. 

"What are you sorry for? Besides, I met you."

Michael smiles a little. 

They come to a stop in front of a huge door. Similar to the front door, the top is done in blue stained glass and the rest is white wood. The door handle is gold. 

Inside is a circular room bigger than Michael's living room at his own house. Michael feels lucky he's sleeping in Jeremy's bed with him - a king sized four poster with silk sheets and large comforters. 

"The bed is nice," Michael quips, at a loss for words. Jeremy makes his way across the room, looking up. Michael follows his gaze, seeing that the ceiling of this room is glass, showing the stars. They're more visible out in the country.

Jeremy throws open two French doors that lead to a balcony and just stands there in the doorway. Michael comes up behind him and wraps him in a hug. "You know what a nice bed is good for, right?" He asks suggestively, leaning his head over his shoulder. 

Jeremy giggles and kisses him on the side of the face. Michael copies him on Jeremy's temple. He can see Jeremy's blue eye from this side. 

"She cleaned," he murmurs, looking down at the nightstand next to the bed. Michael rocks them side to side. 

Jeremy uses this small momentum to push Michael down on the bed. The sheets are as soft as they looked. Jeremy climbs up to straddle his lap, and then falls down so they're chest to chest. 

They start to kiss. 

Jeremy gently cocks his head and puts one hand on Michael's shoulder, the other boy wrapping his burly arms around Jeremy's petite waist, squeezing him gently. Michael growls playfully and unravels his arms to rest his hands on Jeremy's hips. 

He slides his large hands across Jeremy's thighs, murmuring sweet nothings in between kisses. Jeremy is sucking on Michael's tongue. Michael continues to knead up his thighs and then grips them, close to his hips and starts kissing down Jeremy's neck. 

Michael knows he shouldn't take it further right now. 

He straightens his back and shifts so Jeremy's thin legs are across his lap, facing the door. 

"There's no one like you, Miah," he mutters in between softer kisses. They're slowing it down to a stop. 

"I love you," Jeremy murmurs with a little breathless giggle. Pecks Michael on the lips on last time before turning his attention to fixing his appearance. He pulls at the collar of his sweater. "You got drool on me."

Michael laughs and hugs Jeremy, laying back on the bed, pulling them down together. Tucks him protectively into his side, an arm around him. Jeremy folds his arms across Michael's chest, gazing lazily up into brown eyes. His own eyes are darkened considerably, down to a sapphire blue and dark brown. 

They lay in quiet for a while. 

"Hey." 

"Hmm?" Jeremy's eyes close. 

"What did she mean earlier - when she said 'you know the rules'?"

Jeremy's head shifts. 

"I had rules as a child. Don't bother them when they're working. Don't speak unless you're spoken to. Don't go anywhere unless someone knows, et cetera..." 

Michael tightens his hold on his boyfriend. 

"Why don't we get changed?" Jeremy questions, standing and going over to his bag to get his toothbrush and such. It's only nine-thirty but it's been a long day. 

Michael makes direct eye contact and peels off his pants and hoodie, and throws them across the room. Jeremy giggles at him, grabs a few things from his closet and leaves into a bathroom off of his bedroom.

A few moments later he returns, teeth brushed and face washed and in a night shirt, volleyball shorts and thigh highs, black and blue in colour. He stands there in the doorway, legs turned inwards and looking so sleepy. Doe eyes glance around to make sure everything is in order, and then he makes his way to Michael. 

Michael cards a hand through Jeremy's hair, relishing in the softness. He feels good. Both of them tend to have trouble sleeping, but this moment was calming. He had exhaustion in his brain, the boy of his dreams in his arms, and the soft lighting of Jeremy's huge bedroom. 

"I think you're the best thing that ever happened to me." Michael whispers, pulling Jeremy forward. He sits him down on his lap and presses their foreheads together. "You're so pretty - and smart and kind and lovely and I love you more than anything. I love you so much it hurts." 

Jeremy giggles and places his hoodie covered hands on either side of Michael's face. He runs the tiny tips of his fingers over the stubbly skin there. He smiles tiredly. 

Michael looks at his smile and thinks of the ring box in his bag. 

They peel back the covers of the bed together, and get situated. Michael lays on his back and puts an arm around Jeremy, who plays with Michael's bracelets for a moment. He seems to be focused on one he had made out of a 90s bracelet kit and a spam key. 

The lights suddenly go out. Michael sits up. 

"Relax," Jeremy whispers into the dark, pulling him back into his original position. "The lights up here go off at ten every night."

"You had a ten o'clock bedtime?! My parents weren't super strict but I was never awake past seven as a kid!" 

Jeremy doesn't say anything. 

"It's almost like a prison sentence," Michael murmurs, holding Jeremy closer, more protectively. He feels the sigh the blonde heaves out. 

"Ani ohev otcha," comes a whisper.

"I love you, too, baby."

A couple moments of silence. 

"Mikha?" Michael smiles into the blackness at the nickname. 

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for coming here for me. It means a lot."

"No problem, sweetheart."


	2. Spurn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New chapter is up!

Michael wakes up perfectly. 

Usually, he wakes to a blaring alarm at seven that reminds him that he has to get up to go to high school. Now, he wakes up to quiet, and the sun, and Jeremy buried in his arms. 

The curtains are blowing lightly, soundless and sweeping in the breeze. Michael heaves out a breath. 

Jeremy's eyes flutter open. Michael runs a hand through his hair. 

"Good morning, my love," he whispers, rolling them over so he's hovering above Jeremy, pressing kisses to his lips and then falling onto his side. In a way, it feels like they're on vacation. Well, they are and they aren't. Spring vacation wasn't to be spent like this. 

Jeremy lays on him again, causing Michael to laugh.

"What time is it?" He inquires blearily.

"10:30." 

Jeremy chokes and falls off Michael and out of bed. He meets Michael's eyes with a look of pure panic on his face. 

"We should have been up earlier! She's going to kill me!" 

"Woah, woah, no she won't. We slept in, I'm sure she'll understand." 

Jeremy shakes his head violently. 

Michael's mind wanders to what she did yesterday, and how she had looked rather threatening. 

They're out of bed in a few moments. 

Jeremy rifles through the wardrobe and finds Michael's section, tossing him jeans and a button up. Michael regrets not brushing his teeth last night, because it would save then time, now. 

Once teeth are brushed and faces are washed, just as they're about to leave, Jeremy stops him and calmly straightens out the collar of his shirt. It's comfortable enough, the red fabric isn't itchy or tight or anything. 

Michael runs a hand through Jeremy's hair, causing him to giggle, peck him on the lips. Holds the door for him on their way out. 

Intertwining their fingers, Jeremy leads him down the same stairs from yesterday, but takes a right at the bottom, into a sunroom filled with house plants. A table is set for three, and is filled with food. 

Michael's stomach growls, causing Jeremy to giggle. 

Pancakes, waffles, toast, pastries, fruit and cream, doughnuts, and several other things Michael's never tried before sit on the table. 

Mrs. Monét steps into the room, successfully ruining the mood. Michael doesn't know why... there's just something odd about her. A sort of vibe he can't explain. 

"I decided to let you sleep in - a long day yesterday and all... come, sit." 

"Told you so," Michael sing-songs under his breath to Jeremy, who steps on his foot innocently as he walks past. 

Previously to breakfast, Michael had no way to backup his thoughts about her. Post-meal, Michael definitely does. This woman is clearly the reason behind Jeremy's lack of self confidence. 

All throughout the meal, she's poking at Jeremy's personality, life, family, appearance - anything and everything, in this matter-of-fact way. She ignores Michael, for the most part. 

She is awful. 

"You really should be covering that brown eye of yours - it looks very unnatural. Unattractive."

"Honestly, your father must be crazy if he wants to live in New Jersey instead of back home."

"You're so skinny - did you ever even think about changing that?" 

Those weren't even the worst ones.

Michael jumps in more than once to try and help his wilting boyfriend under a guise. Jeremy, whose mother is putting him down for everything, isn't defending himself. Michael wants to scream at her. 

"Baby - what are these?" He asks, gesturing to a plate of small, round pastries. Jeremy's gaze flicks to him quickly. 

"Ooh, jaffa cakes. They're named after jaffa oranges, which come from Israel." Under the table, Jeremy squeezes his hand in thanks. Michael traces patterns on the back of his hand reassuringly.

"But what are they?" Michasl specifies, holding his head on his other hand. 

"They're like biscuits with orange jam in the middle and chocolate on top. They're really good...!" Jeremy raises his eyebrows and smiles at him. 

Michael takes one. 

It is very good. He makes a mental note to find them when they get back home. Do they even have these back home? He hopes they do, it honestly is very good.

"So, how long have you two been... an item?" She questions, voice fake if Michael's ever heard it.

Jeremy glances at him quickly. 

"About two years now. We started dating just after I turned fifteen..." Jeremy returns quietly. 

"What did your father say when he found out?" Her smile is meaner than usual. "Or does he not know?" 

"He does. He is very accepting and kind about it. He loves Michael." 

Michael notices the clipped quality to Jeremy's tone. 

"So, you're older?" She turns to him. It startles Michael. He nods all the same. He's old for his grade, having started school late. Jeremy is the opposite. 

"Only by a few months, though. I turned eighteen two months ago." 

She nods in response and doesn't reply at first. Cups her hands around a mug of coffee. 

"And you must be from a reform family, then? If you're in this thing?" 

...What?

"I'm sorry, what?" 

"Michael isn't Jewish," Jeremy says quietly. 

Oh.

She hisses something at him in French. Jeremy's reply is snappy. They leave breakfast quickly after that, not even thanking her or saying goodbye or anything. 

Jeremy starts to lead him back to their bedroom so they can figure out something to do for the test of the day. 

"The jaffa cakes were really good! I liked them a lot..." Michael tries to distract Jeremy.  
"And you have to promise to make me crepes when we get back home," he holds out his pinky. Jeremy takes it with his own. 

"I promise, Mikha."

Once Michael is sure they're out of hearing range... 

"That lady is awful! She is - so bad?! What the hell?" Jeremy laughs bitterly.

"I know." 

They walk in silence, holding hands. 

Until Jeremy stops. 

"Jeremy?" 

Jeremy shakes his head slowly, stepping back. His eyes are bleary, skin suddenly splotchy. Michael steps forward, holding Jeremy's hips, concern seeping into his voice. 

"Jeremy?"

He lets out this cross between a whimper and a sigh, eyes rolling back. He falls forward onto Michael. Michael loses it immediately.

"Jeremy?! Jeremy! Help!" 

Luckily, a duo of maids hears them. The first gasps and drops to Michael's side, and the other leaves quickly. 

Jeremy's skin is deadly pale, and flushed heavily across the nose and cheekbones. He's gone pretty much slack in Michael's arms, curling his fingers weakly in the front of his polo. 

Michael picks Jeremy up and carries him back to the bedroom once a cluster of people arrive. Mrs. Monét is suddenly there, acting overly concerned and flitting around nervously. 

A medic is called. He explains that Jeremy was probably under a lot of stress with coming back here and that he was also most likely exhausted physically. 

He would be fine. 

Mrs. Monét leaves after getting her answers, quick to accept the explanation. 

Jeremy doesn't wake that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please consider leaving kudos and reviewing if you enjoyed! <3


	3. Stupor

"Miiichaaael..." comes a quiet song. There's a laugh in the voice. The tanned boy grunts in his sleep and leans up into the gentle touches on his face. 

"Michael, wake up." 

He doesn't. The touch leaves. Michael is almost sad, but at least now he doesn't have to wake up. 

Michael wakes by himself a few minutes later. He stretches. The bed around him is cold and Jeremy is nowhere to be seen. Sitting up, he looks around blearily. 

Gentle humming from the bathroom. Sliding out of bed, Michael wanders over and gently pushes the door open. Steam is coming from the doorway on the far side. 

Wandering over, Michael's jaw drops. 

You know, in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, when Cedric tells Harry to take the first clue up to the Prefect's bathroom? And remember how in the movies the actual bath was the size of a swimming pool?

Michael didn't know that kind of thing actually existed. 

Jeremy is taking a bath in a porcelain, bowl shaped, in-ground bathtub. 

The room smells flowery, like a perfume shop, but in a good way. The water is opaque with pink and yellow bubbles. Jeremy is looking at him, hair pushed back. 

He sinks down until his mouth is under the water and swims to the edge. He folds his forearms across the ledge and peers up at his boyfriend, who sits cross legged in front of him. Michael cups the side of his face. 

"I have to go with my mother today." 

Michael sighs. 

Jeremy takes a small breath and puts his head underwater, disappearing momentarily. When he comes up, he splashes Michael with bubbles, causing both of them to laugh. He starts to rinse out his hair, still singing quietly. 

"Are we not going to talk about what happened yesterday?" 

Jeremy pauses, pursing his lips. 

"Ima told me it was exhaustion. Or stress...?" 

Michael nods slowly. 

"Then... then that must be it, okay? I'm fine now, Mikey." 

Looking into Jeremy's eyes, Michael knows he isn't lying. He nods slowly. 

Jeremy lets the bathwater drain, exiting and wrapping himself in a satin kimono style robe. The blue fabric looks nice on his pale skin. Michael kisses him softly. 

Part of him wants to go lay back down with his adorable boyfriend. It's only seven. Too early. 

Stepping behind a silk screen, Jeremy starts to get dressed. 

"Do you really have to go?" Michael inquires, sitting on the bed and feeling like a whiny child. 

"Yes, Mikha. It's only for the day - I'll be back tonight for dinner." 

Michael nods even though Jeremy can't see him. Michael can see the faint outline of his boyfriend putting on clothes and straightening them out. 

"How do I look?" His boyfriend asks casually, stepping out from behind the screen and into his view. 

He knew Jeremy cleaned up nice, but this was different. 

He's dressed formally - in a tight white turtleneck and black slacks. His jewelry has been changed out for dainty little gold things. He seems to glow, in a way. 

"You look... amazing." 

"Thanks, Micah." He gently pulls on a blue pea coat, and begins to fix his boots. Hand in hand, they make their way down to the entrance hall. 

Michael wishes Jeremy didn't have to go. This place is so lavish - he'd rather spend his time making out in bed. 

Jeremy is wrapped in his mother's colours and is bearing her symbol on his chest. He kisses Michael goodbye, squeezes his hand, and is gone. 

Michael is left alone in the house. 

Well, not really - there are a few maids and cooks who are there with him. Watching. Michael feels just a tad creeped out. 

He wanders back inside, and then eventually up to Jeremy's room. There isn't anywhere else for him to go, not wanting to intrude too much.

Boredom hits. He knows there's probably a million things he could do here, but settles for laying on Jeremy's spot on the bed and shifting through his phone. 

Twitter. 

Instagram. 

YouTube. 

Messenger. 

Twitter. 

Instagram.

YouTube. 

[11:03 AM ] - richthebibitch: how is france motherfuckers??

Ah yes. The group chat.

It had been started at the start of sophomore year, and had pretty much devolved since then. At the beginning they had been having normal people conversations at normal people times of day, and now Michael would get dank memes at 2 AM.

[11:03 AM ] - pellmell: it is very pretty

[11:03 AM ] - pellmell: foreign tho

[11:04 AM ] - theyseemerollin: well duh that's why they call it a foreign country 

This is how most of their conversations go. Rich will make dumb comments, Jenna and Chloe will debunk them, Christine and Jeremy and Brooke will be cute in the background, and Jake will pop in and out. 

Michael's stomach rumbles. He hasn't eaten yet today. 

How would he get food? Does he just ask? 

"Hello?" 

Startled, he flips around onto his back on the bed and sits up, facing the door. His heart melts. 

An adorable, little blonde boy is standing there, blue eyes glistening with tears. "Who are you?" He asks, quietly. He has an accent, just barely noticeable. He speaks oddly, his words cut apart like glass. 

"Um." 

Michael blanks. Blondie cocks his head. 

"Who are you?" Michael returns, realizing he never answered the question. 

"...I'm looking for my daddy." 

Is this like... one of the maid's or cook's children? Why would there be any kid out here?

Getting up, he slowly makes his way out of the bedroom and to the child, who latches quickly onto his hand. Not knowing where he's going, he figures they'll walk down to the main floor and he'll hand him off. He wasn't good with little kids. He liked them, they just didn't like him.

oOo

20 minutes later Michael can't believe he got them lost. 

Turning another corner, he keeps thinking he's going to find those big staircases, and he never does.

Blondie had been seriously quiet, not speaking except in little murmurs. And odd quotes that don't seem like things he's coming up himself. 

"Ugh, I swear I know where we're going!" Michael exclaims awkwardly, trying to calm down. 

"Free your mind from worries," Blondie tells him, and Michael really tries. Taking a deep breath, he tries to imagine this kid if he were older, hoping that would make him easier to talk to. 

"How old are you, anyways?" 

Blondie shrugs. Michael's eyebrow quirks. The kid looks to be only five or six.

"Why don't you talk normally?" He continues, feeling like an asshole. Blondie blushes and runs his hand across his left eye. It's pinker than the other one, but a little strip of hair covers it well enough. 

"Sorry. Nobody likes how I talk."

"Nonononono," he rushes to explain, "It's not that I don't like it, it's just unique."

"Unique?"

"Different, interesting. One of a kind." 

Michael practically sees the lightbulb go off above the kid's head. 

Turning another corner, he comes to a full dead end, at a huge stained glass window. Sighing, they turn and start walking the other way. 

"You mean like sababa?!" He asks excitedly, a hand coming up to the left side of his face and then jerking back to his side. Michael knows it's Hebrew, from Jeremy's use of the word, and asks: 

"Is that Hebrew?" 

"Yeah!" Michael can practically see the stars dancing around in his eyes. "Do you speak?!" 

"No, but my boyfriend does." 

Blondie looks scandalized, but amazed. He rubs at his left eye again. 

"You have a boyfriend?" He questions, face alight in a wonder that isn't really necessary. 

"Mmhmm." 

Blondie goes quiet. 

"Is he pretty?" He inquires softly. Michael nods, smiling a little. They turn into an unfamiliar hallway. It's colder somehow. More distant. 

"Ima says I could never like a boy." 

"Why not?" 

"It's against the rules." 

Michael doesn't really know what that means, but doesn't push it any further. 

"It's not against the rules. You can like whoever you want to," Michael tells him, projecting a lot of sureness into his voice. 

Blondie nods. Rubs his eye. 

"Why do you keep doing that?" Michael questions, voice as neutral as possible. Blondie's small hand jerks back down to his side. 

"My parents have blue eyes. My eyes are different colours, and my left one is brown, and Ima says it's unnatural and makes me cover it up."

Michael freezes and slowly turns to the child. 

He's such an idiot. 

"What's your name?" Michael asks slowly, his voice lower than it had been. 

"Jeremiah," the boy tells him, smiling.

It all makes sense. The hair and the eyes and the accent and the language. Michael's pretty sure on who he's looking at, but how or what or why? 

Jeremiah giggles and takes off down the corridor. Falling out of his stupor, Michael follows as quickly as he can. 

"Hey! Where are you going?!" 

No answer, just childish giggles as the younger turns the corner. 

When Michael follows, he comes across a large, royal blue door and no child in sight. 

Pushing open the door, Michael finds a huge bed and a grand bedroom. A large closet and bedroom on one side and a large balcony overlooking the rose bushes. 

Michael realizes this is Mrs. Monét's room, in the East wing. 

So much for not intruding too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a review or kudos if you enjoyed!! :)


	4. Lurk

Michael has to actively focus to keep his footsteps discreet enough. The floor beneath him is a different kind if wood, a little more aged - and creaks with his weight. 

The door is very large, and also very heavy, but moves easily enough when Michael pulls on it. 

The room behins is gigantic for a bedroom, and is dressed in maroon and gold. It's a contrast from pretty much everywhere else in this place. The bed must be a custom size, because it's definitely bigger than a king. The closet is a whole new room in itself. 

This must be Ms. Monét's room. 

Michael, deciding not to be one of those dumb movie characters, turns right around and starts to leave, before something catches his attention. 

An orange pill bottle. It's on the floor, right to the right of the entrance, hidden if the door is closed. Stepping forward, he stoops and picks it up. 

Xanax. Huh. 

What would she need Xanax for?

Michael leaves quickly, mind reeling. He finds the entryway unfairly easily, and from there practically runs back to Jeremy's room. 

What did he just see? 

What was the kid? Was that little Jeremy?

Why did she have Xanax?

She must be hiding something. 

Was that a ghost?

He doesn't actually do anything on his phone for a long while. He puts it down, picks it back up, tries to use the internet for help, and puts his phone back down. 

Mrs. Monét greets him with a strained smile when Michael goes downstairs to meet them that night. Jeremy looks so much alike her, clinging to her arm gently. 

She's going out to dinner. Michael can't say he's upset. 

Besides. It may be the perfect time to show Jeremy the pretty gold ring he has for him. A candlelit dinner on a French balcony. 

Jeremy pours them both wine. Michael glances unsurely. But then again, who was he to talk? He purchases weed on a regular basis. 

"Drinking age for wine is 16 here," the blonde murmurs. 

Ah.

"Listen, Miah... does your mom have any... uh, medical... issues?" 

Jeremy blinks. "Not that I know of. Is this about breakfast yesterday? She's not really against you, she just wouldn't want me to marry - " 

"Nonono," Michael shakes his head, "I just found Xanax in her bedroom." 

Michael realizes quickly he should have prepared his boyfriend for that. 

"You went in her bedroom?!" Jeremy hisses, snacking Michael on the arm twice lightly. "She said don't go into the East wing! That was literally the only rule for you!" 

"I stumbled upon it by accident! I was trying to find food and it... didn't work out. I just kept getting lost." Michael rubs his neck. "Speaking of which..." 

Quickly, he recounts the ghost story. Jeremy's reaction is much like confusion, racking his brain for any title for it aside ghost. Shaking his head, he puts his hand in his palm. 

"Why would she have Xanax though?" 

So we're just going to ignore the ghost?

"That's literally the question I've been asking since I saw them." 

"How many were in the bottle? Was it all the way full?" 

"About half," Michael replies. 

"That means she's probably been using them..." 

Michael nods. He suddenly wishes he had waited to bring it up. This was supposed to be cute and romantic. 

They clean up in near silence, contemplating the day's turn of events.

"How was your day?" Michael inquires as Jeremy is getting ready for bed. Jeremy hands him a toothbrush. 

"Fine. Boring." 

"What did they talk about?" Michael continues, knowing he had been gone because of some lawyer thing his mom was doing. 

"Just basic procedures. It was so awkward - a ton of old people looking at me like they were waiting for me to do something wrong..." he shudders and then drags Michael to bed. Throwing himself onto the raven haired boy, they curl up and sleep without problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter I know! The next one is a little short too, and I thought about combining them but I wanted to stay on schedule with them. 
> 
> Please consider leaving a review or kudos if you enjoyed! <3 Thanks for reading!


	5. Trepidation

They have the next full day to themselves. Michael wakes up to soft kisses on his face. A chuckle bubbles from his lips and he flips them expertly. 

The first thing he sees are Jeremy's eyes. Framed by dark lashes, the left one is chocolate brown - matching Michael's almost perfectly - and the right one is baby blue. Michael remembers when he had found out about the brown eye, because Jeremy had kept it hidden with blue contacts until ninth grade. 

He thinks of the little boy last night. 

He also thinks of the ring again. He needs to just man up and do it. 

"What do you wanna do today?" Michael inquires, kissing across his boyfriend's collar bone. Jeremy giggles and runs a hand through Michael's dark hair. 

"There are these public hiking trails up closer into town... we could go up to one of the lookouts and have lunch, and then walk around after?" 

That sounds perfect. Michael nods and keeps kissing, biting some dark marks into his collarbone. 

A perfect day didn't quite end up happening. 

The breakfast setup is similar to the day before last's - the small table in the sunroom with similar foods out. 

It's painfully awkward. Jeremy's cheeks are flushed and he keeps looking between his mother and Michael, who returns his glances with fleeting, panicked ones. It's silent.

They try to eat as fast as possible, but Mrs. Monét ends up quietly excusing herself before they can leave. 

They look at each other and don't really get to say much, because Jeremy faints. 

A nearby maid once again, gets Mrs. Monét, and Jeremy is quickly upstairs and laying in bed with Michael. 

Nobody calls a medic because it must be exhaustion, right?

The room is evacuated, except Michael and Jeremy and Jeremy's mom. 

Her blue eyes narrow, thunderstorms flashing behind them. Michael tenses. 

"Mr. Mell - you aren't... doing, anything to him, right?" 

Michael freezes. What?

"What do you mean?" He returns, quietly. 

She shakes her head, blonde curls bobbing as she quickly leaves the room. 

oOo

"Your mom accused me of poisoning you." 

Michael really should learn to prepare people for these kinds of things. Jeremy almost chokes on his coffee. It's 2 PM. 

"What?" 

"Your mom accused me of poisoning you. She thinks I did it." 

Jeremy stares at him. His eyebrow quirks. 

"You... didn't, right?"

Michael sputters and Jeremy laughs. "I'm only kidding!" 

"Good," Michael returns curtly. 

"Honestly though, the amount of internet searching you do on murder methods concerns me just a little," the blonde tells him, holding slim fingers a centimeter apart. 

"It's interesting!" Michael cries while pinching Jeremy, who snickers, nodding. 

It goes quiet for a moment. 

"But... like isn't that weird?" 

"The fainting? Yeah," Jeremy admits. "But I think now that it definitely isn't exhaustion or stress. I've definitely been more exhausted and stressed than this." 

Michael has an epiphany. An aha moment. 

"What if it was the Xanax?"

Jeremy blinks. 

"Oh shit nevermind I shouldn't have said that I'm sorry - " Michael says immediately after, realizing that hes jumping to conclusions. He just accused his best friend's mom of attempted murder. 

Jeremy doesn't look at him. 

Michael doesn't really know if he thinks she would do that. Does Michael think this lady would really do that? No. But, he doesn't really know her. It seems crazy, so far fetched to think about - but she did abuse him for fifteen years. 

"That doesn't make a lot of sense - Xanax has a lot of other side effects, right? Wouldn't there be a change in my behavior or something?" 

The blonde holds a good point. 

"Also," Jeremy continues, "Why am I the only one fainting if everybody is eating the same food? I don't have any allergies or anything that I know of..." 

"You know how you're concerned about my internet habits?" Michael inquires, tilting his head a tad. Jeremy looks at him. "I'm concerned that you aren't freaked out about the possibility that I just accused your mother of murder."

"She didn't murder anyone..." 

"You're still avoiding my questions!" Michael cries, poking Jeremy's ribs. 

Jeremy sighs and looks out the window, and then back to Michael. 

"When we first moved to New Jersey with Abba, she tried to push me off the cliff at Sandy Hook."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oke so I'm not sure if Sandy Hook actually has a cliff,, but for the sake of the story just let it happen. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave kudos or a review if you liked!!! <3


	6. Digest

"Excuse me, what?" Michael's voice is tiny. 

Jeremy doesn't say anything. 

"You aren't kidding?" 

Jeremy shakes his head 'no' very slowly. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

The blonde sighs. 

"I didn't know you at the time. I didn't even really register that it had happened. She just tried to get rid of me and Abba grabbed me just before something bad happened..." 

Michael's actually speechless. 

Ok, so he had accused her of attempted murder, but now he knew that she actually had attempted murder. Great. 

And they were staying here with her?! What?! 

Why?why?why?why?why?why?

w h y ?

Well. That was just fantastic. 

oOo

Jeremy, for the first time, collapses more than once in one day. 

They order dinner up to their room that night. There had been no problems when they had eaten alone. 

But now there were. 

Had she done something to it before it got sent up? 

Then again, they had no solid proof it was even her in the first place. Maybe they were just being paranoid. 

But then maybe she had actually done it.

She had already tried, she clearly doesn't like either of them... they're out in the country a little, perfect place to kill someone!

Things are getting crazy. 

And nobody even bats and eye at the fact that someone amongst them is having some clear medical problem! 

Jeremy and him finally go on their date to get away from the craziness. 

Leading him by the hand, Jeremy hums as they walk down a little cobblestone street, closer to the beachy part of town. The buildings are old and rather beautiful. 

Michael feels kind of like he's in one of those instagram videos for the vintage aesthetic. He's once again ditched his hoodie for nice jeans and a light, collared shirt. Jeremy is dressed similarly, but in lighter colours and with the addition of a picnic basket on his arm. 

Michael does, indeed have the little ring in his pocket. 

Because Jeremy is a small ball of happiness who loves pretty things, he had gone for something a little more sparkly. He was sure that he would love it. 

They were still pretty young to get married - ans he was ready for that. They had known each other for so long, though, that Michael couldn't imagine his life without Jeremy in it. And he planned on telling him that. 

"-cah? Miiiicah. Earth to Michael," Jeremy's teasing him and Michael blinks. Looking around, he quickly realizes that they're coming up to a clearing. 

Wait, clearing? When had they started walking through the woods?

Considering that he can still hear the sounds of civilization though, however faintly, they can't have gone far. 

Jeremy's hand slides out of his as he steps aside and smiles a little, ducking his head. 

Michael's jaw drops. 

This place is beautiful. 

The water is glittering, and goes on for miles and miles. The sand is white and very hot as Michael slips his shoes off, quickly wandering over to where Jeremy is setting the picnic blanket out over the sand. 

There's nobody else in sight. They're completely alone. 

"Are you even listening to me? You've spaced out on me twice in the past ten minutes!" 

"What? Yes, I'm listening!" 

Michael is such a liar. 

"Liar," Jeremy tells him. 

Ha. Right. 

"This... it's just this place is gorgeous."

Jeremy laughs, a carefree, beautiful sound, like the tinkling of ice cream bells. 

Michael adores it. 

"I used to come here with Nathalie a lot when I was really little." 

Nathalie was the nanny that Jeremy had when he was younger. She had moved to America with them just to stay with their family, and when she was fired when Jeremy reached seventh grade, he was devastated. He didn't talk to anyone for a week afterwards. 

Michael kisses him softly. 

They sit and eat, chatting lightly. 

Michael's mind keeps jumping back to the ring... this would be perfect. They're alone, this is romantic, the scenery is gorgeous. 

Michael pats his pocket and feels the box...

"Alright, strike three." Michael suddenly realizes his boyfriend had been talking. "What's up with you?" Jeremy questions, setting his fork down, strawberry and all. 

Alright. He makes a split second decision, he better just do it. 

"Uh. Nothing... it's just," he sighs. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you..." 

Jeremy giggles and cocks his head to the side. "What is it?"

"Uh, Miah - "

Michael's phone rings. 

Damn it. 

He makes a mental note to turn his phone off the next time he tries this, the moment ruined. Especially if it was a freAKING TELEMARKETER RUINING HIM PROPOSING TO THE CUTEST BOY ALIVE - 

"Wait!" Jeremy exclaims just before he can decline the call, "That's my mom's number." 

Michael hands him the phone and watches Jeremy's face pale. The blonde tucks the phone into his shoulder and makes some frantic hand gestures at Michael and starts to pack up their stuff. 

They're on their way back into town when he finally hangs up. 

"What was that all about? Why are we leaving?" 

Jeremy steps out onto the street corner and raises a hand in the air, "Taxi!" When one pulls over, he grips Michael's hand tightly as he pulls him in. "One of the cooks at Rosemeadow dropped dead on the job." 

He quickly gives the driver some directions and sits really close to Michael in the backseat. 

oOo

They pass a few police cars on the way down their road, and the driver lets them out at the base of the driveway. Stepping inside, Jeremy hands the basket to a nearby maid, thanking her gently. 

Mrs. Monét is already there, waiting. She glances over Michael and hugs Jeremy. She holds his face in her hands. 

"Don't worry, petit fleur, nothing is wrong. He was taken to the hospital. You are safe here."

Jeremy starts to cry. She lets them go up to the room.

"Who was it?" Michael asks softly, wrapping an arm around Jeremy, who shakes his head and wipes his eyes. 

"I don't know. I don't know any of the workers here."

Later, as they're settling in, Jeremy speaks to him in the dark. 

"I've only fainted on the days that I've eaten at the table. My mother has been there before us, alone, every day. Let's say that a servant walked in and saw her tampering with the food and she ended him so he wouldn't tell?"

Wow. Way to jump to conclusions. 

Michael pulls Jeremy to him so they're spooning.

"So you were against me when I proposed it but you're fine now?" Michael bites back, trying to lighten the mood a little. 

"Michael I'm freaking out! What if my mother is actually trying to kill me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for all the kind comments!! <3


	7. Depart

Michael wakes up the next morning alone. Jeremy's side of the bed is cold. 

Rolling over, he looks around and then sits up, shoving his glasses on. Jeremy is sitting at his desk on the other side of the room, scribbling on a piece of paper. He doesn't glance up. 

"Good morning," he murmurs softly, continuing to write. 

"Mornin'," Michael greets gruffly, stumbling out of bed and over to him to stand over his chair. Jeremy brings a hand up to the side of Michael's face over his shoulder. "Whatcha doin'?"

Jeremy hums. It's a list, some words are in French and some in English, all written in his loopy handwriting. 

"I've made a list of everything that was on the table at breakfast both days, and what I had out of them," Jeremy coughs, rubbing at his eye. "The idea is that you'll write down what you had and then we can compare and try and find the food." 

Michael nods. When Jeremy taps his hand with the pencil, he begins to list them off. 

Michael had the same things both days - toast with jam, a waffle, orange juice, and a jaffa cake. 

Jeremy had been identical, almost - toast with marmalade, a waffle, water and orange juice, and he had had a bite of said jffa cake. 

The marmalade. 

She was poisoning the marmalade. 

Well, they thought she was poisoning the marmalade. They couldn't be quite sure just yet.

They get dressed in silence. They brush teeth and wash faces in silence. Walk down to the breakfast table in silence.

Jeremy doesn't have any marmalade and he also doesn't faint. 

Jeremy is in the middle of talking with his mother about some politics thing that Michael doesn't really care about, when the he picks up the marmalade dish and slathered a piece of bread with it. 

Jeremy starts to kick Michael under the table, progressively getting more aggressive. Michael has to applaud Jeremy's acting skills, there is no change in his demeanor as he keeps his cool while speaking.

It was good enough. Like jam but orange. 

Mrs. Monét excuses herself from breakfast yet again, leaving half her plate untouched. 

"What are you doing?!" Jeremy hisses as soon as she's gone, smacking the toast out of Michael's hand. Half of it is already gone. 

Michael shrugs. "Experimenting." 

Jeremy's eyes harden. He gets up without a word and stalks back to his bedroom, Michael abandoning the toast and following after. 

oOo

Michael stares at his boyfriend. It's been about half an hour since Michael has eaten the marmalade and he's feeling completely fine. 

"Are you sure?" Jeremy asks for the fifth time. Michael nods in reply, a little exasperated. Jeremy bites the end of his thumb. "Maybe we did something wrong?"

Michael flops back down on the bed and sighs. Jeremy sits down cross legged across from him and Michael sits up so they're looking at each other. 

Maybe she didn't do it today? 

oOo

The next morning they both have toast with marmalade. They excuse themselves rather quickly, waiting to see what will happen. Mrs. Monét's glare can be felt on Michael's back. 

She doesn't like him. 

If nobody collapses, they're going to explore the local town. Jeremy knows a few cute little shops and resteraunts. 

"I can't wait for you to see it, Mikha! You'd love it - " currently, Jeremy is going on about a candy shop down by the beach, arms spread wide. "Miles and miles I swear, of everything under the sun!" 

Michael sees the redness start to rise on his cheeks and nose. He feels dread settle in his stomach. 

It happens a lot quicker than the times before - Jeremy doesn't even have time to warn him. His eyes roll back and the blue contact gets stuck on the front of his eye. 

Michael rushes him and they fall.

oOo

Looking down at Jeremy's small form, which is laying curled up on the bed, Michael is at a loss. 

They had the same foods! Maybe Michael is immune or something? It doesn't make sense. Jeremy hums in his sleep and his eyes flutter open. 

Michael cards a hand through his hair.

Jeremy starts to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy we're halfway done!! Sorry this chapter was short. Fear not, however!!! Some fluff is coming up soon so those ones will be a little longer. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!!! Kudos and reviews are very appreciated! <3


	8. Wonder

They go on another date to get out of the house. 

There is a special at a nearby theater where they're playing old black and white romance movies back to back, and Jeremy says they should go. Michael was down for it because of his interest in old timey things. 

The only problem was that the movie, Beauty and the Beast, was in French. Michael didn't speak any at all.

However, it meant that Jeremy put his head on Michael's shoulder and translated by whispering into his ear when needed. Michael enjoyed it much more because now he could understand a little but also because Jeremt was cute.

It's a good movie - not something you might think but it was up Michaels alley and the actors are pretty. 

So is Jeremy. Jeremy is really pretty. His eyes glitter in the movie lights, tucked under Michael's protective arm. 

He must see Michael staring so he glances at him and squeezes his hand. 

"Translation?" He whispers. Michael nods. It wasn't necessarily a lie. "Ça ne me dérange pas d'avoir peur avec toi... I don't mind being frightened with you."

Michael's heart melts. The whole thing is so ridiculously cheesy but Jeremy is cute and it's dark and he wants to kiss him so he does. 

Jeremy gasps in surprise and Michael slides his tongue into his mouth. In the next few seconds, Jeremy slides over to sit on Michael's lap and is sucking on his tongue. Hands wander in the dark.

They make out until the lights go up and the movie is over. Tugging him into the bathroom, Jeremy goes about fixing them up. 

Michael ponders the ring. He's so in love with this boy but Jeremy definitely deserves better than a bathroom proposal. 

Also, yes, Michael has been carrying the ring around with him. Yes, he knows that's how things get stolen or lost and not a great idea. 

"Michael," comes Jeremy's voice, tone soft and gentle. "You keep spacing out on me, are you alright?" He waves to the attendants at the counter as they exit, Michael stumbling along. 

"Yeah. Yeah, totally," Michael replies, squinting as his eyes adjust to the sudden contrast of light, despite it being only afternoon. The street is full of little shops and resteraunts, and people and bikers milling about. 

Jeremy pulls him to stand under a nearby orange tree so they're out of the way of anyone exiting the theater. He holds both of Michael's hands and surveys the nearby areas. 

The ring... 

No. Not yet. 

"Are you hungry?" He asks suddenly, a small smile appearing on his face. 

Michael's about to shake his head - wanting to do whatever Jeremy wants while they're here, but his stomach rumbles, betraying him and that's ruined. Jeremy giggles and pokes him in the chest, turning to drag them to a crosswalk. 

"Where are we going?" Michael laughs, suddenly feeling more carefree as they step into the light. Jeremy points to a sign at the top of a building, reading "Café de Papillon" in cursive letters. 

"I used to sneak off here sometimes when we were summering here. Let's have crepes for dinner." 

It is a little early for dinner, this could pass. 

"Bienvenue!" A clerk calls out to them as they enter, waving a little from behind the counter. There are cases of drinks along one wall and a few tables in the back. Jeremy taps Michael's cheek. 

"What do you want on your crepe? Or they have doughnuts and other such pastries..." he asks as he surveys the menu distractedly. 

"Bananas and chocolate." 

"Okay. Go get us drinks." 

The drink case is full of Pepsi and Coca-Cola and lemonade and chocolate milk and a hundred other things Michael's never heard of. He picks up a Mountain Dew for himself and an orange juice for Jeremy, and turns back to place them both on the counter. 

Jeremy places a few more euros on the counter, which the clerk takes and gives them two warm crepes for. He nods pleasantly to both of them and they're off and out the door. Jeremy takes his drink from Michael, swapping it for Michael's crepe, and immediately starts dragging him off again, causing the latter to laugh. There's a little pond with sitting areas across the street. 

"Quit tugging my arms off!" 

"Then walk faster!"

The trees are flowering. A few people sit at picnic tables. The streets are cobble and the buildings are old, beautiful things. 

Jeremy is a beautiful thing. 

Finally, he drops Michael's hand as they stop in front of a white gazebo, covered in vines and purple flowers. There's a little table on it, overlooking the water and the rest of the park. 

Michael tries hard to imprint all the details of this moment in his mind. Jeremy's face and eyes and clothes. The sun and the warmth. The beautiful scenery. The cafe. 

The blonde places his food down on one side of the table. "Is this okay?"

"Of course. It's so pretty." 

Just like you. 

God, Michael needed to stop being so cheesy.

This is the perfect time. Michael is filled with nerves. 

The shorter of the two turns to overlook the water, giggling at a few nearby ducks. Michael practically falls to his knees behind him and pulls out the box. He takes a deep breath to steady himself and studies the ring for a moment. 

"Jeremy?" 

Turning back to him with a little laugh, Jeremy stops short at the sight of Michael. 

Here we go. 

"You've been my friend for as long as I can remember. We've been dating for the past couple years, and looking forward I can't imagine my life without you in it." Jeremy presses his hands over his mouth and Michael takes another breath. 

"You are the most important person in my life and I love you with my whole heart and person. You've been there for me through everything." Michael laughs nervously just a little. "Jeremiah Heere, will you marry me?" 

Jeremy stares. There are tears running down his face and over his hands. Michael smiles, hoping that after years of reading him he's crying from happiness. 

"Jeremy?" 

Jeremy nods slowly, and then more frantically. Michael laughs and leaps to his feet to hug him, wrapping his arms around his waist. Jeremy reciprocates, stuffing his face in Michael's neck. A few people around them in the park clap and whistle. 

Michael's heart is soaring. 

Moving back just a little so they are chest to chest, Michael takes Jeremy's trembling hand and slips the ring on his finger. Jeremy's hand the slides up to Michael's shoulder and he just stares at it. 

Michael had done the same thing when he had been buying it, so he smiles and nudges their foreheads together. Jeremy presses a kiss to his lips. 

Michael, deciding to be that person, fully dips the other boy into a kiss. Jeremy squeals and kisses back, laughing. Michael runs calloused hands up his lover's back and then pulls him up. 

Jeremy is still crying, but with this dopey smile on his face. Michael laughs and wipes them away with the pads of his thumbs. 

They just stand there for a few moments and hug and kiss and, in Jeremy's case, cry. Finally, they collect themselves and sit down to eat their food. 

Jeremy spends the entire meal gushing over Michael and his ring and the fact that he doesn't have a boyfriend any more because now he has a fiancé. 

"Gosh, I must look like a mess," Jeremy tells him as they throw their trash away, referring to his messy face from where he's been crying. His cheeks are ruddy red from Michael's relentless flirting and compliments over dinner and the fact that they're engaged. 

They're engaged. 

Michael isn't sure he believes it just yet. 

"No, you don't." 

They decide to walk back to the house, hand in hand. Jeremy keeps bubbling over Michael, kissing his cheeks and nose and jaw and such randomly, cuddling into Michael's arm. 

"Did you tell my dad?" Jeremy inquires suddenly, scandalized. "Did he know about this?!" 

Michael nods. "I had to make sure I had his blessing," he laughs. "I didn't ask your mom though..." 

Jeremy rolls his eyes. "She doesn't matter to me as much anymore," he tells him. 

"That's good."

Jeremy giggles. "I can't believe we're engaged." 

"Isn't it funny how I knew you were going to say that before it left your mouth?" Michael returns playfully. 

"Sorry! I just really can't believe it!"

Michael picks up Jeremy's hand to study the ring, the little stone in the middle glittering up at him. It's starting to get dark. They make the final turn down into Rosemeadow, passing the property sign. 

The house looks kind of spooky but ethereal at the same time at night. Sticking out his arms and looking pointedly at Jeremy, Michael stops. 

Jeremy looks at him, smiling confusedly. "What?"

"I must carry my bride across the threshold."

"Okay, first I'm not a bride, second of all, people do that after they get married, not engaged," Jeremy tells him, starting to walk again. 

Michael sighs dramatically and quickly scoops Jeremy up into his arms, ascending the steps to the front door. Jeremy screams and laughs, winding his arms around Michael's neck until he's set down inside the house. 

They laugh quietly. Starting to kiss Jeremy heavily, they stumble upstairs in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeeee it is done!!! I smiled throughout writing this whole thing!!!
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 200 HITS!!
> 
> Sorry for the delay. I'm across my state right now and I only have my phone to write on. 
> 
> Cafe de Papillion is an actual cafe, but it's in Delaware and not Marseille. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!! It means a lot that you enjoyed. <3 <3


	9. Aid

Michael wakes up first the next morning, getting the perfect view of his adorable fiancé laying on his chest, bathed in golden sunlight. Michael plays with his curls until he wakes up, pressing gentle kisses to his forehead and hair. 

Five minutes later, Jeremy suddenly rolls onto his back, blinking up at the ceiling. He giggles happily after a moment and turns his head to look at Michael, their faces only inches apart. 

"Good morning," Michael tells him. 

"Good morning," Jeremy returns, leaning in and kissing Michael's jaw. 

That takes up about thirty minutes of their morning, just lazily kissing each other and chatting softly. 

That is, until Jeremy's phone rings. 

He leans over to his bedside table to answer the call and puts it on speaker. 

"Shalom, ahavah-" Mr. Heere barely gets to words in before Jeremy interrupts him in loud English.

"Guess who's getting married?!" He screams, causing Michael to laugh in the background. Mr. Heere starts to laugh as well, a deep, rumbling sound. 

"Who's getting married?" Comes another voice, and Michael looks and Mrs. Monét is standing right there in the doorway, scowling and still in a blood red silk robe. 

Michael's heart drops just a little. Jeremy's eyes widen and he shifts the phone in his hand to cover his ring. There is silence over the phone. 

"We are," Michael tells her, and she recoils instantly. 

The door slams. Jeremy trembles and ends the call abruptly. Michael quickly rushes over to hug him. 

They don't really do much that day. They decide to tell their friends when they get back to New Jersey, and they spend the rest of their time worrying and kissing and laying in bed. They eat from Michael's bag of snacks he had impulsively bought as soon as they landed and were waiting for their ride. 

It's later that night when the excitement comes. 

Jeremy had just fallen asleep when Michael hears some distant noise. Like people rustling around. Michael tightens his grip on the blonde in a precautionary sort of way. The door creaks open slowly. 

Mrs. Monét, who had made herself scarce all day long, now stands silhouetted in the doorframe. Her face is lit dimly by a trio of candles. Michael can't tell if she hasn't changed her clothes at all today or if she got dressed and changed back. 

Judging by her hair, which is limp along her shoulders, Michael guesses she hasn't changed. 

Michael sits up and just looks at her. She stares right back. Her eyes are stormy, and she kind of looks right out of a horror movie. 

"I want to talk to him." 

Michael shakes Jeremy awake. 

He sits up blearily, looking at her and rubbing at his face. He glances at Michael and then her confusedly. 

"Mommy, it's the middle of the night - "

"Come with me." 

Jeremy shoots him a panicked look as she turns around and starts walking away. Michael shrugs but scrambles off the bed along with his fiancé, trading the black furry bathrobe Jeremy hands him for the blonde's blue silken one.

They hold hands tightly as they walk behind her. She offers a candle, which Jeremy declines quietly because he has no saucer or holder for it. 

They've been walking for about a full two minutes when Jeremy speaks. 

"Where are you taking us?" He inquires, his voice just above a whisper but easily heard in the quiet. 

"I have to show you," is all she replies with and says nothing further. Jeremy squeezes Michael's hand. She turns into an unfamiliar chamber to the side of the hallway. 

They take a right and then a left, and then enter a large, locked room lined with large windows. 

It reeks of gasoline. Jeremy sniffs the air and glances at him worriedly. Mrs. Monét picks up a nearby glass of wine and chugs the purple contents. 

"You two cannot get married." 

Jeremy's face hardens. 

"Yes, we can - we're going to wait a bit to sort things out but we both want this and you can't stop - "

"No!" She whips around to them and Jeremy takes a full step back. Michael steps towards him protectively. "You two cannot get married because it will ruin both of you! I'm only doing this because I care for you, honey, I don't want him to hurt you." She softens. 

"Are you drunk?" Jeremy returns. Michael stays quiet. 

"Shut up, you brat. Maybe it wasn't marriage that ruined us after all," she comments offhandedly, flipping her tone like a switch. The lights suddenly flicker on in little sets of two. 

At the end of the long chamber, there is a huge portrait of the original Heere family. Jeremy is in front of and in between both of his parents, his mother on his right and his father on his left. They both have a hand on each of his shoulders, and all of them are dressed smartly in shades of blue and white and gold.

They're smiling but not really, a smirk sort of thing. Michael is suddenly struck with the fact that these are Jeremy's parents, and how similar they all look. Blonde hair and blue eyes in the picture. 

Something scuttles in the dark. 

"Why do you have this?" Jeremy breathes, stepping forward and out of Michael's way. His eyes are transfixed on the picture. 

What could have been.

Suddenly, she takes three quick steps forwards and throws the candleabra at the painting. It goes up in flames. 

The gasoline. 

Jeremy screams as the fire passes, inches from him, and steps away from her quickly; tears running down his face. Michael grabs him and makes a break for it. 

Ten minutes later, Michael is done barricading Jeremy's bedroom door and is settling back into bed. 

Jeremy is trembling so violently Michael starts to shake a little, too. 

"I've never seen her act that way before," Jeremy says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooo spoopy!!!! Thanks so much for reading and for 250 hits!!! It means a lot to me!!! <3 <3


	10. Breathe

Michael wakes again later. He doesn't have any idea what time it is, but it's still dark outside. He blearily opens his eyes and hears Jeremy. 

"Micah, wake up... you have to wake up."

Michael does. 

Turning to his right, he sees Jeremy. He's on his knees facing Michael, tracing his fingertips over Michaels arms and hands in a ghostlike manner. He looks young. Like, really young - like only twelve or thirteen. 

Rubbing at his eyes, Michael follows Jeremy's gaze, which has switched to Michael's left side. 

Michael gasps in surprise. 

"Oh my god, what are you doing up here?" He asks Mrs. Monét, who is standing over the bed creepily. She gazes at Michael, her eyes blank, and then snaps her fingers. 

Two figures emerge from the shadows of the room. The larger one leans down and rustles through the blankets, picking up a small figure which Michael recognizes as his fiancé. The other sticks a needle in his pale, limp arm. 

"Where are you taking him? What are you doing?!" Michael sits up and looks to his left, and he must be seeing double or something because one Jeremy is in this stranger's arms and the other is sitting next to him.

Young Jeremy waves. Michael screams. 

Everything goes black. 

oo

It takes Michael a moment to realize if hes awake or not. But after a good five minutes of sitting in the dark he realizes he's awake, but there is no light at all in this room. His eyes aren't adjusting at all. 

He sits up and slams his face into the ceiling. How tall was this area even? Grabbing at his head, he scoots forwards on his stomach to try and gage some area.

His hands hit a cold wall. It's metal... steel or iron or something. He runs his hands over it, feeling at the little cracks and such. 

After a rediculous amount of time feeling along the wall like a crazy person, he feels a change in the texture. 

Soft squishiness is at his fingertips now, a thin strip between where the floor and the wall meet. Having a bright moments of intuition, Michael grabs it as best ad he can and pulls. 

It slides out and this area is suddenly bathed in a slim line of yellow light. Michael cheers internally. 

This little bit of light allows Michael to see some stuff in this room, and he just lays there for a moment trying to see what he can. After several moments, he realizes he can stand up. 

The room is a small, concrete square, with a little ridge in the wall. That must be where he smacked his forehead, and then slid across the floor like a snake. He's now standing in front of an iron door, a plush strip of cloth under the crack at the bottom to keep any light out. 

Michael pulls it the rest of the way and is able to see more. Stupidly, he tries the doorknob. Nothing. 

He tries peeking under the door, but he can't quite get his eye low enough to the ground. He sits back, a little hopeless as there aren't many options. 

He was sure he learned how to pick a lock somewhere, but he didn't have anything to do it with. 

Where was Jeremy? Michael contemplates screaming for him, but that's probably not a good idea as it could attract attention. 

Where was Michael? He kind of thinks a basement of some sort because there aren't any windows and it's all concrete. The floor is cold and a little damp in some places. 

How was he possibly going to get out of here? He was sure that Jeremy wasn't having a good time no matter where he was. Michael had to protect him! There wasn't anyone around as far as he knew and - 

The spam key. The little spam key on Michael's bracelet Jeremy was playing with. Michael grabs at it, thankful he hadn't taken it off to sleep, and breaks the string holding it together with ease. 

The door is old and Michael's Nancy Drew ass is able to lock pick it rather easily for someone who's never done it before. 

The door creaks open. Michael hisses a laugh out, happy that he's doing so well in his quest. Maybe his years of playing video games helped a little. 

Poking his head out, Michael squints at the sudden change in lighting. The door opens into a long, thankfully empty corridor. Michael steps out and something cracks under this foot. 

A bright green pill bottle. Stooping, he adjusts his glasses. Melatonin, extra strength. It's empty. 

Dumb of them to think melatonin would stop Michael. Stealthily turning the corner to the staircase, he suddenly feels like a knight. Knight Michael going to save Prince Jeremiah. At the top of the stairs, Michael finds himself in a small sitting room off of the entrance hall. 

Michael figures that as he doesn't really know what to do, the best thing for now is to just go forward. 

Exiting the entrance hall, he moves into their sunroom where they have breakfast, and then into a hallway. He passes some windows and doors, everything looking the same. The place is massive. 

Then he hears it. Singing. Jeremy's singing. 

Jeremy sings a lot when he was alone, or when he thought he was alone. He's a really good singer, just a little shy about it. Michael can't quite make out the words, and he thinks it might be Zemirot. 

Up ahead, he sees a huge set of French doors and realizes he is getting closer to the sound. The door is open just a tad, and Michael crouches, peeking around the corner. 

Jeremy is alone, chained up, and crying while he sings in the rose garden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super happy with this chapter because I feel like it's a short chapter for how much info is in here but :/ 
> 
> However that's oke because sometimes you wont be happy with something no matter how hard you try to fix it, and accepting that is the best u thing can do. <3 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and for all the love and support!!! It really means a lot that people are enjoying my works. Ily all.


	11. Edge

"Jeremy!" Michael calls, keeping his voice down a little because he still doesn't know who else may be around them. The singing stops as Jeremy turns to look at him. 

"Micah!" Jeremy replies easily, eyebrows furrowing in concern. Glancing around quickly, Michael rushes forwards on the grass and pulling at Jeremy's binds. They attach at his wrists and ankles but don't seem to be done very well. The chain is rusty and Michael pulls the first one out of the ground fairly easily. The air around them stinks, perfumey roses mixed with some faint thing, sour and heavy. 

"Where the fuck do you even get actual ankle and arm chains?" He wonders out loud. "The Halloween store? Spencer's? What the hell?"

Jeremy shakes his head violently. 

"No, don't, if we just don't cause any trouble they might go easy on us!" He exclaims, putting the chain back in the earth half heartedly. 

"Jeremy, we have to get out of here! She's insane! We can't expect her to "go easy on us" at this point!" 

"Then get out of here! Go get someone, but I don't want her to do anything to you if I can help it!" 

Michael sighs. 

"Go, Micah. Please, and - Michael!" His voice rises at the end, and Michael is suddenly very aware of a large arm around his bicep, pulling him up and away. Jeremy sobs, reaching out to him. 

"Don't hurt him, please!" 

A little laugh behind him. It's cold and unforgiving and Michael suddenly feels a rush of hatred for the woman it belongs to. 

Michael is chained up as well, but the binds are just as forgiving as his boyfriend's. Jeremy sends him an apologetic look. 

"Let me make this abundantly clear," she starts, and Michael turns. She looks different - no longer the cold, unforgiving widow. She looks insane. Her face is streaked with black mascara, and her hair is a little wilder. She's wrapped in a satin bathrobe that matches Jeremy's, save the fact that it reaches her ankles. "That I never wanted children."

She goes on. She hates children. She hates Jeremy. She hates Mr. Heere. 

The monologue is very villain-esque, and Michael can't help but think that her quest to end them would be much more efficient if she would stop talking and just get on with it. 

"You are nothing," she hisses at Jeremy. "You are worthless."

"Yo," Michael exclaims suddenly. "Bro, would you shut the fuck up?" He says in a dude-bro voice, which makes Jeremy laugh through tears a little. 

"He's fucking amazing. He's everything to me, and you're the one missing out on this incredible, beautiful person." 

Jeremy continues to smile and cry. Michael decides to keep it simple for now. 

She just rolls her eyes and starts to ignore him-

"Also, you really are bad at everything. Being a parent, a decent member of society, and an evil, awful person. We found you out a long time ago-" a guard kicks him in the side. 

Huh. For once being a little pudgy had its perks. 

"Michael," Jeremy laughs, sad eyes beginning to glimmer. "Stop... I want to make it out alive." 

Mrs. Monét laughs. It doesn't bode well.

"Perhaps I'll have two bodies to worry about..." she muses out loud, sipping another glass of wine. In the faint light, Michael can kind of see her teeth beginning to purple around the edges. 

Michael tries to breathe easy. He contemplates turning and sprinting away, but he wasn't too fast to be honest and there were like 25 people she could send after him. 

She begins to hiss in French, and Michael tunes her out in favor of thinking of a plan. 

Running isn't an option. Distracting her didn't work. He begins to look for outside resources. 

Rose bushes? He sould try and somehow get her to fall and get a ton of scrapes and that... probably shouldn't help much. 

He could throw a big rock at her. But he didn't want to kill her. Just.... maim, or seriously injure. 

A crack rips through the air as her hand darts out and smacks Jeremy across the face. Her blood red nails leave raised scratches across his cheek. 

Michael is about to scream. He's furious. 

No human being deserves to be hated by their parents. But especially not Jeremy. Sweet, kind, nervous Jeremy who wouldn't hurt a fly. 

But before Michael can do anything about that her hand darts out again. 

And he doesn't realize that it's carrying a lit match right at first. And how all the guards are moving away. 

The scent of roses seem so far away, now. The scent of gasoline seems so much stronger.

The flames spread too rapidly for Michael's liking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry!!! This is so short and it's been so long... :( I havent been having a great time recently. Basically I used to go to a private school and now I've moved up and I don't anymore. The grading systems are very different and I keep getting points taken off for stupid things. I managed to do some extra credit stuff and I've been way out of it with work, but my lowest grade is a 94 so I'm okay for now. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! Three more chapters!! I love you all!!! Reviews and kudos motivate me!! Ily! 💖


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